And then Came the Soup
by Dr. ET
Summary: Chowder is an aspiring chef-in-training from Marzipan City. Remy, on the contrary, is a successful chef from Paris. Deep inside, Remy wants to lend his culinary skills to someone who understands him...and Chowder truly fits the bill.
1. Never Mind

"Okay, Chowder. If we're not back by 9 o' clock, lock up here and leave the key in the secret key-keeping place." The blue chef told his apprentice.

"Do you mean under the welcome mat that's the first thing people will see when they come in?" Chowder asked.

Frowning slightly in revelation, Mung said: "Never mind. Just put it in the mailbox."

"Yes, sir!" Chowder sited enthusiastically. He began walking back into the catering shop then stopped when he asked: "Wait, remind me again why I can't come to this 'Only for those with concrete species' party?"

"Well, because…you have no concrete species." Mung explained.

"Oh…" After blinking twice, Chowder asked: "What does 'concrete' mean?"

"Um, never mind. Bye, Chowder!" Mung ended, as he Shnitzel and Truffles sped away.

"Bye-bye, Chowder!" Truffles yelled.

"Bye Truffles! Bye, Shnitzel!" Chowder raised his voice.

"Radda Radda…" were things Chowder heard from his housemates.

Then when they left, Chowder dashed off to the kitchen and grabbed as many kitchen utensils as he could. And then, in a flash, he ran outside Mung's Catering place and up to his room.

Panting, he laid all of the utensils around his entire room and lay on his bed, quietly humming: 'I'm not your boyfriend.'

"This is perfect, Kimchi! Now, Mung can't force me to play Sniffleball (even though it is night time…) and I can play with Mr. Spoon and Mrs. Cook Pot and Lady Rolling Pin, and Dame Spatula…"

But as Chowder's enumeration of humanly-named kitchen tools was beginning to end, he felt a strange drowsiness come over him.

Woozily, Chowder began whispering: "You're the greatest chef in the world!!" In a fakey-fake girly voice.

Then he yawned loudly, letting in a few pigeons, and then as he began to close his mouth, he muttered: "You don't know what you're missing…if you aren't in the kitchen…"

After one flatulent noise from Kimchi, Chowder drifted into a sleep, deeper than anything you could think of…


	2. Stroke of Genius

Meanwhile, in a restaurant in Paris…

Seven members of the staff stood closely to the entrance to the dining area. They were all waiting for their waiter to get the morning paper and see the review from last night's critic.

Six of them were cooks; one was the brother of the chef.

And to make it more interesting…five were human and the other two, were rats.

That's right, two rats. One was the chef, who was Remy, and the other was his brother, Emile.

From the other five other cooks, Collette, the only girl, stepped forward as their waiter (and her boyfriend) Linguini, stepped in with the newspaper.

"So? What does the review say?" Larousse asked.

Swallowing, Linguini began: "For my thirty years of being a critic, never have I faced a challenge as great as the one La Ratatouille offered me last night. My judgment, though seldom positive, could be the top story for days on end. But now, I bring to you the decision I made last night and its effect on me, in a way that shows how deserving it is against my own self. Most regularly, I would judge a dish with the first thing that comes to my mind as I try to savor it. The meal at La Ratatouille was one of the few that have given me a stroke of genius as I began, and kept its wonderful sparkle up to the last bite. It is my honor and pleasure to say, that the cooks at this restaurant, have lived up to their name, yet again."

Cheering and clapping rose up in the kitchen as Linguini finished reading the review. And with a smile on his face, Linguini announced: "We did it again guys. We made another critic happy."

"Well, that's what we do. We make sure our customers leave without any doubt that we did a good job." Colette said as she faced her workmates.

Grabbing the nearest bottle of wine, Larousse said: "This deserves a celebration!" Pouring some of the Cheval Blanc 1947 into his wine glass, and then putting some in the other glasses before handing them out, Larousse said: "To us!"

"To us!" they all toasted happily, and drank up.


	3. Luck and Stealthy Smiles

Secluded from the rest of the restaurant crew, Remy stared out the window of the rat-section of La Ratatouille.

He sighed in deep thought hearing the gentle whispers of speech from the people in the kitchen beneath him.

And feeling touch of…

"AHH!" Remy exclaimed, turning around in surprise.

"Hey, Remy! What are you doing up here all alone? Everyone's eating downstairs." Emile said, his paw still on the shoulder of Remy, which he so suddenly tapped.

Catching his breath Remy said: "I'm just thinking, Emile. I don't want to be bothered."

"Oh." Emile remained quiet for a few more seconds as Remy stared out the window.

"Am I being bothering?" Emile cut the silence, with Remy's almost immediate reply being: "See? Okay, sorry, but, when someone is in thought, they need some silence." Remy turned around a little bit to face his brother.

"Well, okay." Emile silently pattered his way down. "Oh, and dad says if you're feeling a little left out, remember, you're family." He said, jumping onto the small installed stairs.

Remy looked back once before his brother disappeared from sight. His ears drooped slightly.

Why? Because they were right, he was feeling left out.

He was the only rat who was a cook. He was the only cook who wasn't human.

Sometimes, it was really hard to relate and pitch ideas when you can't even speak to your colleagues.

Not even the prized company of Anton Ego could help him overcome this feeling of loneliness. Remy just had to learn to work out of it and deal with life.

So, yeah. Remy was feeling left out.

"Hey, Remy!" he heard Git call. "Come on down here! You're missin' out on all the food!"

Stealthily smiling, Remy said to himself…

"Okay. Just keep yourself looking up, Remy. Luck will change." Then he scampered off down to his family and friends.


	4. Awaken'd

Zzz…

Zzzz…

Zzzzz…

Remy lay on his stomach in the rafters of the restaurant.

Despite their increasing sophistication and relation to humans, the rats don't like to let go of their roots; thus their sleeping positions and "habitat" are kept the same.

Remy is very particular about this.

"Yes I would love to eat now…"

You can only wonder what Remy is dreaming about.

"Emile let go of that Shitake Mushroom…" Remy rolled to the left and almost fell over the plank of wood he rested on, but then he rolled to the right and then that's where he fell.

"OOF!" Remy landed with a hard thud onto the rat section of tables, awake, of course.

"Uhh, my head…" he rubbed the back of the part you know hurts when you fall from seven feet.

He scrambled up to his four legs and groaned, getting ready to get back up and sleep, when he heard a chewing noise- a very heaping and scarily real chewing noise.

Flinching, Remy said: "Who's there?" He took a few steps forward and went into his little bucket that lead him into the kitchen.

"E-Emile? Is that you?" he stammered.

As he went closer to the fridge, he started to feel like he was in an earthquake with an increasing intensity.

"Wh-who's there?" Remy trembled.

Then it was there, he saw it, a purple and pink rat, shorter than him, but a lot chunkier (should I say fat) than him.

Remy just stared at him unrealistically gobbling up all the food he could hold in his paws.

Handful after handful, the rat took some food (whatever could fit in his paws) swallowed it whole and then got another handful.

Remy's eyes twitched. "WHAT?!!!" he screamed.

The squishy rat noticed someone staring at him and then chewed once more before swallowing and stretching his paw out, offering Remy a piece of whatever he dug out of the fridge.


End file.
